A Blooming Rose
by KK Renee
Summary: After being rescued by Fifth Officer Lowe, Rose adopts Cora and goes to live with Lowe in Boston. What happens from there? -Requested by BellaVision-
1. Chapter 1

**This was requested for me to write by BellaVision. I'm finally writing it(: R&R**

"Hello? Can anyone hear me?" Fifth Officer Lowe shouted out into the darkness. "Is anyone alive out there?"

Rose's head lifted off the ornate door. She tried to wake him up, but to no use. Jack's eyes wouldn't open. Rose searched for the lifeboat. It was going away. Why was it going away? Rose was still alive! She needed to get on that boat, to live, to fulfill her promise to Jack. Rose thought for a moment. She had to make a decision: let Jack go or stay with him forever. The boat's light was fading. They were searching for other survivors. They wouldn't rescue her unless she decided _now_.

_I'm sorry, Jack_, she thought. Rose slid Jack off the door. He bobbed in the water, his hand still frozen to hers. "I love you, Jack," she said hoarsely. "I'll never let go." Rose watched Jack slipped under the water. Now Rose herself got into the water. There was an officer nearby, floating on debris. He had a whistle. Rose swam as fast as she could to him. That boat had to come back.

Rose tried her best not to notice his pale face, his purple lips, his lifeless eyes. But it didn't work._ I know him_, thought Rose. Officer Wilde. Rose gently took the whistle out of mouth. A wrist caught hers and held it tightly. "Bring them back," Officer Wilde breathed and was barely heard by Rose. She placed the whistle in her mouth and blew.

Lowe heard a sound. Was it a scream? No, it was the cry of a whistle. "Turn about!" he hollered. Soon, they found Rose and Officer Wilde. The men in the boat pulled the two out of the water and bundled them in blankets. Rose fought the sleep, but it overpowered her and she slept.

Rose awoke in the shadows of the _Carpathia_. Her arms felt heavy and she was still tired. She couldn't think about what had happened this past night. Jack… Rose felt strong arms under her, helping her up. She was helped up the side of the ship. She was offered coffee, soup, anything warm. She declined every offer, still in shock to register anything. But she noticed a child crying. Rose recognized that girl. It was Cora. Rose knelt beside her. She brushed a tear off the child's cheek. "Cora?" she asked tentatively.

Cora sniffed loudly before speaking. "R-Rose?"

"Yes. Are you okay, Cora?"

Cora shook her head. "S-somebody said m-my d-daddy was d-dead." She started sobbing into Rose's shoulder.

"No, Cora, no. Your daddy is here, with you, always." Rose placed a hand over Cora's heart. She remembered being told the same advice four years ago when her own father passed away.

"You t-think so?"

"I _know_ so." Rose smiled and Cora smiled back.

"Beautiful child of yours, she is," said a nurse making her final checkups on the _Titanic_ passengers.

"Oh…she's not mine," Rose said. Cora was asleep in her arms.

"Her parents passed in the sinking?" Rose nodded in response.

"I'm Hallie," the nurse said, holding a hand out for Rose to shake.

"Rose."

The two talked to each other for a while. Before Hallie had to walk away, she said, "You know, if that child doesn't have a family to go to, why don't you adopt her?"

The next day, Rose sought out for Harold Lowe. He was sitting at a table, drinking coffee and talking calmly with other White Star Line employees who survived. Rose walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Officer Lowe, I'd like to thank you for saving me last night," she said. "If you didn't come back…I wouldn't be here."

"You're welcome," Officer Lowe replied. "Rose…do you have anywhere to go after this?"

"Actually…um, no. I haven't thought about it yet. I guess I'll have to try to find a job first, a cheap place to live." _There's no chance I'll make my way back to my mother_, she thought.

"I can help you. Would you like to accompany me to Boston?"

"Oh, uh, thank you! Thank you_ so much_! This means a lot to me. Now if you'll excuse me..." Rose turned to find Cora.

Today Rose reached New York. When she first boarded the _Titanic_, she was dreading coming here, locked into a marriage with Cal. Then, she planned to reach New York with Jack beside of her. Now, she was here, practically alone, with Cora and going to live with somebody who was practically a stranger!

A man walked up to her, breaking Rose out of her reverie when he said, "What's your name, ma'am?"

Rose paused. "_Dawson_. Rose Dawson." Rose DeWitt Bukater had died on the ship, but Rose Dawson was born.

"And the child?"

"Cora."

"Thank you." The man left with his clipboard and went to collect the names of other survivors.

Rose felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and was met with Lowe's face. "Ms. Dewitt Bukater, are you ready? It's almost time to dock." Rose nodded, not bothering to correct him at the time, and took Lowe's arm. Cora grasped her left hand. "For now, we will have to stay at my great-aunt Martha's house until we can find an apartment complex for you. But about Aunt Martha…she's a bit, erm…_dotty_, if you will…but, really, she's a lovely lady once you get to know her…" Rose half-listened to him speak, but she was too wrapped up in her thoughts to actually pay attention. "…Ms. Dewitt Bukater, are you all right?" she heard him say.

Rose's head snapped towards Lowe. "Oh, yes, I'm fine, absolutely fine," she replied. She paused. "You can call me Rose, if you'd like."

"Very well, then, Ms. Rose."

As they were passing through the crowd of waiting families, survivors, and reporters, Rose thought she spotted Cal telling his sob story to some reporter about how he had "lost his precious fiancé." She was pretty sure, he wouldn't be able to see her, but Rose kept her head down, anyway, just in case.

The trio soon arrived at Officer Lowe's aunt's house. Lowe rang the doorbell and stepped back from the door, waiting for it to open. It opened a moment later by a tall, balding butler. "Ah, Mr. Harold," he said, "the mistress has been expecting you arrival for quite some time and she already has your room made. I expect I shall be making beds for the guests?" By the time he had finished talking, they had reached the parlor. Cora was starring at the room in amazement.

"Yes, Albert, that would be nice," Officer Lowe responded.

There was a semi-awkward silence as Albert left the room. Rose could hear a conversation in the room next door, but tried particularly hard not to listen. The silence was broken when a woman shouted from behind that closed door. "Harold! Do come in, do come in! I know you're out there! Why don't you join me for a cup of tea?"

"I'll be right there, Aunt Martha," Lowe called back. He started walking forward, intending for Rose and Cora to follow. He opened the door for the two girls and entered behind them. Rose was surprised when she saw Martha's company.

"_Molly_?" she asked.

**So, I hoped you liked it! The request was sent to me over a year ago and I felt I just **_**had**_** to get it done. So, review, please! (I'll except constructive criticism, just no flames.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back! Sorry for the long wait, but you know how life gets busy, writers get writer's block (especially this one)…**

**Thanks to InYouIFindMe, rockndasha, buffyfan19, Thrae Elddim, League Girl, and BellaVision for reviewing.**

"Why, Rose! I can't believe you're here!" Molly exclaimed, rushing over to Rose to embrace her tightly. Molly paused. "Is…Jack…?"

Rose nodded solemnly. "He's gone," she whispered, her eyes darting to the ground.

Molly sighed, grimacing. "Come sit down, dear. You must be exhausted." Rose made her way over to the sofa and Molly poured her a cup of tea. Officer Lowe had gone back to the motorcar to retrieve the little luggage they had. "So, Rose," Molly continued. "What brings ya here?"

"Officer Lowe—"

"Harold," Lowe's aunt interjected. "His name's Harold and he'll want you to call him that."

"Oh, all right," Rose said, a little taken aback. "_Harold_ was the one who rescued me. He offered to help me get on my feet. We're going to travel to Boston. He just wanted to make a stop here before going there." Rose took a sip of her tea. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asked Molly.

"Oh, Martha is a great friend of mine. I was in the city and took it as an opportunity to visit, especially after such a tragedy." Rose nodded understandingly.

***~.~.~***

"Here's your room," Harold said, setting Rose's one bag just inside the door. "We'll only be staying here for a few days, just until I gather the others."

"Others?" Rose asked.

"Yes—Herbert Lightoller, Henry Wilde, and James Moody; I'm assuming you've met them."

"Briefly."

"Yes, well, they'll be coming with us. We made an agreement before the ship set sail."

"Agreement?"

Harold nodded. "Yes. We were all moving the same way and we agreed to help each other, just the way you agreed to let me help you."

***~.~.~***

_Fifteen dollars a month_, Rose thought. _I can do that. Besides, the first two months are free._ _Two months to find a job. It can't be that bad can it?_ She picked up her bag and walked into her one-bedroom apartment that she would share with her "daughter" Cora, as the story would go.

"Welcome home, ladies," Harold said. "Rose, it won't be up to the standards you've been used to and I apologize."

"Don't worry," Rose responded. She would've been living like this with Jack, anyway. "This is perfect."

"Well, I am going to go get settled in myself. If you need me, I'll be down the hall, apartment 3B. Here is the spare key for emergencies."

"Thank you, Harold." He nodded before retreating from the room.

"Rose, is this our home now?" Cora asked me, holding onto my hand.

"Yes, it is." I looked around at the one-bedroom apartment. The kitchen was small, only identifiable by the sink and the counter. There wasn't even an icebox! The main room held one ratty couch. In the bedroom, there was one full-sized mattress and a run-down wardrobe. The bathroom was accessible through there.

"This place is even better than the house me and Daddy She cut off abruptly.

"Cora?" I asked. I walked around to kneel in front of her. She had tears in her eyes. Suddenly, she dove forward and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. She began to sobbing in my shoulder, wailing about her father, all the friends she made on the ship, everyone she lost. I began crying softly, too.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep, as I had pulled her into my lap when my knees got tired. I carried her into the bedroom, awkwardly (as I had never cared for a child before) changing her into the one nightgown she had been given on the _Carpathia_ by a sympathetic little girl about her age. I brushed her hair out of her face before I changed into my nightclothes and climbing into bed myself.

***~.~.~***

The newspaper _thump_ed onto Cal Hockley's doorstep. Still dressed in his pajamas, robes, and slippers, he opened his front door and knelt down to retrieve the paper. He balanced his coffee cup in his right hand. He returned to the dining room and to his breakfast. He took a bite of his eggs before opening the paper. He flipped the pages until he found what he was looking for. The survivor list.

He scrolled through the names—Dabbs, Emily; Dabbs, Richard; Daley, Jennifer; Daniels, Jacob; Dawsey, Emma; Dawson, Cora; Dawson, Rose —_there she was_! But no Mr. Jack Dawson? Tut, tut.

But, where was Rose? Cal had no idea who she was with, where she was headed. He would search New York first, he decided. She couldn't have made it far from the city, especially if she was travelling alone.

**..~..**

The sun shone brightly through the window, landing exactly over my eyes and effectively waking me up. I rolled out of bed and opened the curtains. I would let Cora wake on her own, while I tried to find us some sort of breakfast. I found two apples left over in my bag that I had taken from the _Carpathia_. I began nibbling into my apple, setting one aside for Cora.

Today, I would look for work. This would be interesting. I'll stroll around town and look for _Help Wanted_ signs and try to apply to anywhere that would take me, if the job or management wasn't too harsh.

By the time my apple was finished, Cora stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Hello, Rose," she mumbled.

"Good morning, Cora," I responded. "Are you hungry?" She nodded and took the apple from my outstretched hand. "Today, I'll be out, all right? Are you comfortable with spending the day with Officer Lowe while I'm away?"

"Can't I go with you?"

I sighed. "This one time," I told her. "But I'm looking for a job, so I need you to calm, quiet, and still, can you do that?"

"You're looking for a job?"

"Yes, I am."

"My aunty—well, she's not really my aunt, just a friend of my dad's—works as a seamstress downtown! Maybe she could give you a job!"

"That's great, Cora! Now you certainly can come along with me."

We both got dressed and headed out to Cora's aunt's shop, after letting Harold know we were heading out, so he wouldn't be worried when no one answered his knock on our door.

It was a short walk from the apartment building where we were staying to the shop. A bell rang gently when we entered. A tall, thin woman walked in from the back room after hearing the bell. "Hello, can I help you?" she asked.

"Aunty Marge!" Cora hollered, running forward to hug the gray-haired woman.

"Cora!" the woman called back. She picked up the small girl in a hug. "Where's your father?"

"He's with the angels, Rose told me."

"Oh…he is?" The smile disappeared from Marge's face.

"Yes, but he's happy there!"

"So what are you doing here?" Marge asked, her smile returning.

"My best friend Rose is looking for a job, Aunty. Me and her both lived through the sinking and now she's needs to make money because she can't live with her mommy anymore."

Marge finally looked up from Cora to me. "So, how are your sewing skills?"

**I guess I didn't post the A/N for this chapter as to why I'm so late on updating. My great-grandma passed away, we had to move really quickly (under two days!), and then I lived in my grandmother's two-bedroom apartment with my family of four for two weeks. Long story. But now school's over and I won't be able to do anything for, like, the whole month of June. I had a pilonidal (sp?) cyst removed and it's in a very weird spot, so I can't sit straight or get hot and sweaty or go swimming. And I'm going to the cabin at the end of the month and I need to be healed! Also, I have to get my gallbladder taken out. I was in the ER all day the other day because of really, really bad back/chest pain, so they did an ultrasound (after running several other tests) on my gallbladder and I have, I think, twelve gallstones in there. Not fun. Anyway, that was a long A/N (but I think that's what I'm known for by now), so I'll let you go now so you can review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry I'm late again. Sigh. But I'm back. And Happy (somewhat belated) Thanksgiving! I'm thankful for Beaufale, sarahmichellegellarfan1, Scottish Celtic Spirit, classicmovielover, and BellaVision, who reviewed. I'm also thankful for my silent readers, too(:**

_"So, how are your sewing skills?"_

"Well, um, I've done needlework with Mother, but nothing more than the stitching on a pillow."

She quickly grabbed a hold of one of my hands and examined them intently. She stared at the back of it before flipping it over to study the palm. "Soft," she said. "From first class?" I nodded, but I didn't think she saw. "Your hands are too smooth to be from any other…" She patted my hand and then dropped it. "You're trainable, but I'm not sure about your experience."

"Let me try working here for two weeks. Please," I added hastily. "You don't even have to pay me during that time." I quickly wondered if that was a bad mistake. Two weeks I wouldn't be making money off of.

"Two weeks," Marge agreed. "You start tomorrow. Be here no later than six o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Thank you so much."

"Come on, Cora," Marge said, no longer addressing me. "I have cookies." I didn't know whether to follow or stay out here and wait.

**..~**~..**

I didn't get much sleep that night. I was worrying about the job, afraid I would be horrific at it and not last past the two weeks and even simply afraid I'd oversleep and miss the offer all together. I rolled out of bed at four thirty. There was no shower in the apartment, so I just washed my face in the sink. I pinned my hair up and, having no other dress to change into, went into the next room to wake Cora up. She sat up groggily, only moving her limbs enough to change clothes. I left a note in my apartment, incase Harold visited and there was no one to be found, and with Cora in my arms, headed down to Marge's shop.

I was fifteen minutes early. I couldn't see Marge through the windows and she didn't hear my knocks, so I let myself in. The door was already unlocked. "Hello?" I called out. It was dark in here with the sun unable to shine around the tall buildings outside. The place had no electric lights. I wasn't sure if there was electricity at all. I hadn't seen any sewing machines.

"Rose, I'm in the back!" I heard Marge call. I followed her voice to a room that was hidden from customers visiting the shop. "Hello," she said upon hearing me enter the room. "I'm going to start you off with hemming a dress. The dress is on the counter, along with your supplies, so have a seat and begin." She still hadn't looked up at me, too busy with her own work.

"Do you have a place where I can set Cora?" I asked. "She's still not fully awake yet."

"There's a pile of scrap fabric next to your work station. I'm sorry I don't have anything better for her." She looked up now, her eyes filled with concern.

I located the pile of fabric and set the girl down. The pile was big enough where it might as well as been a large pillow. I placed my coat on top of Cora to make sure she was warm. The room was already cold as is.

I sat down at my seat. I stared at the dress for a few moments before speaking up. "How far do I take the hem in?" I asked Marge.

"Two and a half inches," was the answer.

I turned back to the dress. I had nearly no idea what to do first. Sure, I had watched other seamstresses do the same to my own dresses, but how often had I paid attention to their task? As long as the job was done, I was okay.

"Flip the skirt inside out," Marge said. She had noticed my hesitation. "Fold the end over, pin it, and sew. It's simple."

I did as she said. I measured out two and a half inches to flip over, but I wasn't sure if it was exact. Did it have to be extremely precise? I pinned a pin into the fabric, making sure they were spaced with a few inches between each one. I had remembered this part of it from back when…from my past. By the time I had finished pinning the dress, Cora had woken up. She leaned against the wall, humming to herself.

It was time for the sewing now, the part I was most nervous about. "Marge, do you have a…sewing machine, perhaps?" I asked.

"I do not. I'm savin' for one, though, however long that will take me." I sighed. How would I do this without a machine? It was the only way I had seen it done. _Needlework_, I thought. I grabbed some thread that was the closest shade of red I could find to match the dress. It took several minutes to do that task alone. It was a few moments later before I could even actually thread the thread through the eye of the needle. I slid the needle through the hem of the dress over and over again. I pricked my finger a few times, drawing blood at least once until Marge offered me a thimble at lunch time.

By the end of the day, my slow, tedious work of hemming a dress was complete. I didn't ever imagine hemming a dress could take that long. And Marge had even completed three projects in the time it had taken me to finish one.

I examined the dress. It was crooked. Great. I had severely messed it up. It wasn't hemmed evenly and you could see where I had sewn, the thread sticking out like a sore thumb. I sighed. Marge walked over to see how I had done.

She didn't say anything at first and I couldn't read the expression on her face. "Practice," she said at last. The word was almost a sigh, and not a pleased kind of sigh, either. Marge muttered under her breath. I could only make out a few phrases like "simple task" and "loss of client."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Ah, don't apologize. I'll see you in the morning." She sat down at her desk, continuing to work on another dress.

"Goodbye, Aunty Marge!" Cora said, kissing Marge on the cheek and skipping along next to me.

"Goodbye, my dear!"

**..~**~..**

I slept a little bit easier the next few nights. My fear at being terrible at the job came true, but I was perhaps a little bit more comfortable at the job, around Marge. I didn't have to worry about being paid because Marge provided lunches, so I didn't have to worry about Cora and I being fed. I didn't have to pay rent for another month and a half. I thought things were going well.

After a few days, they weren't. I kept messing up the dresses that I worked on. Marge had to stay late to fix them herself. Halfway through the trial period, she made me do inventory. This job wasn't so bad. I just had to count the yards of fabric, see what spools of thread she was low on, and worked the cash register. I thought maybe I could do this, that she'd hire me to help her manage the shop. Apparently, that wasn't the case.

"Rose," Marge began as I was about to leave on the last day of the trial. "I really enjoyed your company and having you manage the store while I focused on projects was a relief. But, I don't have the money to pay someone for doing the jobs that I can do myself. I'm really sorry. However, I hope that you will continue to visit and bring Cora along with you." She smiled gently.

"I understand, Marge," I said. "Thank you for your time." I nodded and turned to walk out of the building. Cora followed along behind me a moment or two later, presumably after hugging Marge goodbye.

The next day, I looked for new jobs. Harold had given me the classifieds, knowing of my search. There was an ad from a nearby hotel, the Sutton Inn. They were looking for a paid. Perfect. Cora opted to stay home instead of come with me to the offer. I made sure she knew the rules of staying inside the apartment and not answering the door for anyone before I left. She said she understood and hugged me on my way out.

I walked the three-quarter mile to the hotel. The building was nice, I noted, but definitely not five stars. Had I still been trapped with my mother and Cal, we would have avoided the place at all costs, with its off-white paint and crooked shutters. At least they had a doorman, who opened the door for me and nodded in greeting. I nodded back. I made my way to the front desk. "Hello," I said. "I heard you were hiring and I'd like to apply."

"I do apologize," the clerk said, "but all our openings have been filled. The advertisement you saw must have been old. I'm so very sorry."

"Oh. All right. Thank you, anyways."

I applied for many jobs in the next few weeks. None of them would hire me because of my experience. Or, rather, _in_experience.

If only I could make it in acting…


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry I seriously suck at updating. But when you get plagued with writer's block... Anyway, I'll try to update more next month (in July) because June was really busy for me and school starts the second week of August. Sorry for the late updates (especially to you, BellaVision). Thanks obsessive360, Thrae Elddim, and WindRanger for reviewing the last chapter.**

_I applied for many jobs in the next few weeks. None of them would hire me because of my experience. Or rather, _in_experience._

_ If only I could make it in acting…_

"Come on, Cora. We're eating at Harold's tonight," I said. I had no money to purchase any food for the week. However, as Harold had earned a job as a waiter, he said we could come over any time we needed. It was a bit embarrassing, though, having no money, after growing up with everything at my fingertips.

Together, we walked down the short hallway. I knocked on the door, right below the dulled metal of the _6B_ number plate. The door was opened seconds later. "_Rose_," Harold greeted. "You know you can just walk right in, especially around dinnertime. I don't mind in the slightest." I don't respond. He stepped back from the doorway to allow us through. "I've gotten us some pork chops and a can of peaches. It was the best I could do."

"It's fine, Harold. Lots better than what we have." _Only a quarter of a stale loaf of bread,_ I mentally added.

"Come in and sit." We made it over to the table which was circled with mismatched chairs. There were three places already set. He knew we were coming. Cora hurried into her chair and swayed her feet, since they could not touch the floor. Harold pulled out my chair for me. I sat as he retrieved the food. "I could only get two…"

"That's all right! Me and Rose can share," Cora said. She was eyeing the chops hungrily, fork and knife already in hand.

Harold set the slightly larger pork chop on my plate and I cut it in half, giving Cora hers. We ate in silence for the first several minutes.

"How is the job searching, Rose?" Harold asked.

I blushed and chewed slowly to delay answering. "Not going well, I'm afraid…," I admitted hesitantly. "Without having a job, I can't get the experience needed to _obtain_ a job. All of the positions keep being given to more qualified candidates. I'm going to search for a little while longer before resorting to a factory, possibly."

"You will _not_ resort to a factory." My eyes widened at his tone. Surely he was not _forbidding _me. Who did he think he was? My husband? "I've heard nothing but horror stories about those places. Besides, I've offered to help you and I will gladly provide you with food until you get a job of your own."

"…thank you." The meal became silent once more. When we were finished eating, I offered to wash up for him, but he declined and told us to go home. We did so after graciously thanking him for the meal.

**..~**~..**

"We're going out today, Cora," I said, lacing up one of the three dresses I owned. This specific dress I reserved for days like these, when I was going for job interviews, so it wouldn't be torn or dirty. "Let's hope this is the one."

"You can do this," Cora smiled at me. "This'll be the one. I know it." I smiled softly back at her as I began to braid my hair. I tied it off and we left the apartment.

It was warm today, quite pleasant with the spring air. The sun hadn't risen over top of the buildings yet, but it was very humid already. I could see Cora's hair begin to frizz and curl even more. She grasped my hand when a motorcar rushed by right beside her.

"Have you ever got to ride in one of those?" she asked longingly.

"Yes, I have," I answered quickly, not wanting to discuss the "past life" I had.

"Was it fun?"

"It could be."

"I really want to ride in one someday…I also want to climb all steps to the top of the Eiffel Tower, but that's really far away now, isn't it?" She continued on discussing all the things she wanted to do, and even mentioned a few things she had accomplished with her father, before—before…everything.

**..~**~..**

We reached the building after a twenty-minute walk. I stared up at it, the sun in my eyes. It was a bit shorter than the rest of the buildings on the block, only about three stories tall where the rest were four or five. It was a small theater, but one well-used. Many of the middle-class residents came here when they couldn't afford the high-end theaters in the more developed parts of the city.

I took a breath and walked inside. The air was cool. Nobody was by the front doors. I took a few more steps inside. Our footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. There had to be an office somewhere.

I heard someone else's footsteps. It was a man. "Ah, hello," he said. "Our performances haven't begun yet and won't start until the first of June. Or are you here for something else?"

"Something else," I answered. "I've heard you're looking to hire…?"

"Yes, we are. Right this way, ma'am." He spun on his heel and began walking from the way he came. "Several of our employees left at the beginning of the month to move west. Said something about how crowded New York was. Who knows." We reached an office and the man opened the door for us.

"Is it all right if Cora stays with me?" I asked before entering.

"The girl? Yes, yes, of course." We entered the room, Cora and I sitting in the two chairs opposing the desk. Cora looked around the room, taking in the pictures tacked up on the wall of people in wonderful costumes. "Why, we haven't introduced ourselves," the man said, standing up again as soon as he had sat down. He held out his hand. "I'm Timothy Cooper, nice to meet you."

I stood and shook his outstretched hand. "Rose De—Dawson. Nice to meet you, too." We sat.

"Now, our auditions are already over with," he said, getting straight to business. "You missed them by a week or so and I'm afraid we don't cast others past the dates, unless absolutely needed."

"I'm not looking for a role in a play," I answered. _At least not right now_, I thought.

"Oh, that's good. We've been looking for a while now for ushers and ticket salespersons. Do you think you could do the job?"

"Without an interview?"

"Yeah, sure. You look like a decent girl. And we're desperate for the help. We've been having actors sell tickets before shows because we've got nobody else."

"But I've got no experience or anything—"

"You'll learn. I've got a few who can teach you what to do. It's not exactly the most difficult job in the world. You'll do great here."

"So you're hiring me? Right on the spot?"

"Yes, I am."

Relief washed over me. I got a job! "What would my job entail, specifically?"

"Well, during performances, you can either sell tickets or usher our guests on the show nights. It'll depend on where I assign you. Between performances, you, along with others, are responsible for the upkeep of the building. Sometimes we might need you to help at auditions, to organize files and the like. If you got the skill for it, you could be asked to help out back stage and at rehearsals, but normally we have specific people for that."

_I can't believe this_. "How often will I work in the week?"

"Monday through Friday, eight to four, but during performances we'll need on the weekends and evenings, also."

"Thank you, Mr. Cooper." I glanced over at Cora. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Can you begin next week?"

"Yes, of course I can."

He smiled and stood. "I'll escort you out."

**..~**~..**

When Cora and I returned to our apartment, Harold was leaving his. "You're home quick," he said.

"Rose got the job!" Cora exclaimed.

"Really? That's fantastic!" He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go, or else I'll be late for my shift. Goodbye, Rose—Cora." He ruffled Cora's hair as he passed us.

"Are you hungry? Harold got some spare strawberries from the restaurant for us," I said as I entered our apartment.

Cora glanced around nervously. I noticed bulges in her pockets. "Cora…what have you got?" I asked. She looked around at everywhere else but me before sheepishly pulling half a loaf of bread and two apples out of her pockets. She'd gotten them from a vendor we passed. "Cora, I'm certain we didn't pay for those. We didn't even stop! Where did you get them from?"

"We didn't have enough money for food and I was hungry and I didn't know we had the strawberries and I wanted to help. H-honest. I used to do it for me and my dad all the time! It became a necessary skill, really. I'm sorry, Rose! But I didn't think it would matter. The man I stole it from clearly had enough money already to get by—he was as fat as a pig! We have nothing!"

I didn't know how to respond to this situation. Obviously, she had done this before, as I didn't even see her smuggle the food as we were walking along. And we really did need more—No, Rose, stop it—stealing is wrong. "This is the last time you ever do something like this, you understand?"

"Yes, Rose."

**..~**~..**

It was the middle of the night when I heard someone whisper, "Rose?" I rolled over in the bed. Couldn't they leave me alone? I was sleeping! "Rose? Rose!"

"Go away, Mother," I muttered sleepily.

"Rose, it's me. Cora. I'm not your mother."

I sat up quickly. "What's the matter, Cora? Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just…I wanted to know if I could sleep with you. I miss my dad," she added hastily.

"Oh—of course." I moved over to allow her room. Cora lay down next to me, getting comfortable under the thin sheets. Her stuffed bear accidentally hit me in the arm as she moved around.

"Sorry, Rose," she sniffed. I realized she had to be crying.

"It's alright," I answered, suddenly feeling awkward. What was I supposed to do? Should I say something to her? Should I hug her? Pat her head and fall asleep? Eventually, she found my hand and grasped it tightly. Minutes later, I heard her breathing even out and I knew she was sleep. At some point during the night, I also fell asleep.

I awoke what felt like minutes later when I was pushed off the side of the bed. I knocked my head against the side of the bedside table. I heard whimpering, instantly realizing it was Cora who was making and the sound and the one who kicked me out of the bed. I rose up onto my knees. "Cora? Cora, wake up." I grabbed her shoulder to try to keep her from thrashing around and hurting herself. I pushed hair off of her sweaty forehead and out of her eyes. I shook her gently. "_Cora_." Cora was now mumbling. "Let us out," it sounded like. "Come one, Cora." I shook her a bit more roughly this time.

She awoke from her nightmare with a gasp and instantly began sobbing. She pulled me to her and wrapped her arms around my neck tightly. "They wouldn't let us out, the gates were locked! Oh, god, the water was so cold!"

I moved to sit on the bed and placed the girl on my lap. I rocked and made shushing noises, running my over Cora's tangled curls. "Sh, Cora, you lived. You made it through that and you lived."

"But _they_ didn't. Marcie, John, Abby, _Jack_, my dad…"

I rocked her some more and didn't say anything. My throat was becoming tight and I could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Her words sparked up memories of my own. _Being locked behind the gate…watching Jack as the boat headed towards the water…laying on the door, prying Jack's icy fingers off of my wrist…watching him sink, even after I said…_I had to stop thinking. I focused on her.

"Sh…go back to sleep. It'll be okay."

**So, yeah. I'm not exactly fond of this chapter. I don't like it, but I wanted to give you guys something. It's probably rushed or something and I apologize in advance. Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, all. So sorry for not updating. Like, ever. Short story: my anxiety and depression got worse and I felt my writing sucked. Anyway, that's passed now (kinda). Aloha4life PM'd me the other day and asked me to please update soon. So here's me trying to update soon.**

**And also, rereading my thing, I realized I switched from third person to first. (I was simultaneously writing something else with a first person POV.) But I always meant for it to be in third so I'm switching back to that. Sorry.**

**A/N over.**

The next several weeks went by relatively well. Rose's new job at the theater didn't pay much, but it was enough for food on the table and the rent she'd soon have to start paying, with a couple cents left over. She went in every weekday and organized files, swept the hallways, and kept the cobwebs at bay. It was something Rose didn't enjoy, but something she quickly realized she had to do.

It was nearly two months after the traumatic events aboard the _Titanic_ that Rose started to feel ill. One morning, she was woken by an intense wave of nausea that immediately sent her to the apartment's only bathroom. As quickly as it came, it passed, leaving Rose breathless and sweaty on the bathroom floor. Fortunately, she didn't wake Cora and the moment was dismissed. She brushed her teeth, her hair, got dressed in one of the two dresses she owned, and kissed Cora on the head on her way out the door.

The days wore on in this routine—sick, dress, kiss Cora, leave for work. Rose blamed the illness on the frightening nightmares she had each and every night, believing the horrifying images of people trapped behind gates left to drown and frozen bodies in the water caused the nausea. It wasn't until her dreams shifted to Jack that she realized.

**..~**~..**

_"Where to, Miss?"_

_ "To the stars…"_

_ …_

_ "Put your hands on me, Jack…"_

**..~**~..**

"Mr.—_Harold_." God, she still hadn't broken that habit. At least she'd stopped calling him "Officer."

Harold paused outside the door to his apartment. "Yes, Rose?"

"May I speak with you for a moment?" Rose said nervously, her hands fidgeting behind her back.

"Certainly."

Harold turned and unlocked the door, holding it open for Rose to step inside before him. She did, stopping just a few feet inside the door. She had been in this apartment many times before, but now she felt awkward and intruding. Her mind struggled to find words to say. _How could this even happen?_ was one of the only things she could think of, along with _I can't even take care of Cora, how can I be a mother?_

Faintly, Rose registered that Harold was speaking, but before she could listen to what he was saying, she blurted—"I think I need to see a doctor."

She looked up at Harold to see his reaction. He immediately looked concerned once he realized what she'd said. "Is everything alright?"

Rose crossed the room to stare out the window. She tugged at her dress in nervousness. "I…I don't know." Her throat closed and she blinked tears away.

Harold walked over and stood behind her. He wanted to reach out to her and comfort her, but he refrained, snapping his hand back to his pocket when it began to reach out. "What are your symptoms?" he said softly.

"I've been sick every morning, which isn't much to go on, but Jack—Jack and I—" She couldn't continue.

"Are you saying…?"

"I think I am." She took a deep breath. "I'm—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Leaving Harold in shock, she raced out of the room and locked herself in her apartment.

**..~**~..**

"What's got you all down in a lump, sugar?"

Rose looked up from her lap when someone spoke to her. It was one of the ladies in the play the theater was putting on. They must have been on break. Rose thought the lady's name was Ethel, but she couldn't entirely sure. The programs had yet to be drawn, so Rose only knew a few of the cast members.

"Oh—um, nothing. It's nothing," Rose replied. She stood and brushed off her skirt. "I should be getting back to work. The owner is stopping by today and I need to make sure—"

"Sweetie." The lady—Ethel—stopped her. "I can tell somethin's going on so why don't ya sit down and talk about it?"

"I can't—really—I have to go." Flustered, Rose hurried off to another hopefully secluded spot in the theater to sit and sort her thoughts.

**..~**~..**

Ethel persisted in trying to get Rose to talk. Every time she saw the younger girl, she would try to get Rose to talk, but to no avail. Something big was going on in that girl's life and she needed to talk about it. From what she'd seen, Ethel assumed Rose had no girlfriends and was most likely a single mother to the young, dark-haired girl that often came in with her.

But each and every time Ethel tried to talk to Rose, Rose would quickly change the topic or find an excuse to leave. It got to the point where Rose would change directions when she saw Ethel, so Ethel decided, after a quick offer of "you can talk to me if you ever need someone to talk to," to let the girl be and come around on her own terms. Ethel had feeling she would.

**..~**~..**

It wasn't until another several weeks of avoiding Ethel at work and Harold at home that Rose finally caved. Ethel was the only lady remotely close to her age that had shown any interest in wanting to become her friend. And now that Rose's worst fear was realized now that her stomach was noticeably starting to grow, she desperately needed to talk to someone.

Rose caught Ethel one day as she was getting ready to leave. "Ethel?" she said. "I'd like to take you up on your offer."

**..~**~..**

The two women sat down on some set pieces on the stage. Ethel turned to Rose and gave her her undivided attention. Rose took a deep breath. "I was on the _Titanic_…" She began recalling her tale of events aboard the _Titanic_, from her engagement to Cal and her love story with Jack to the instant the glacier was hit and how she nearly drowned and froze in the middle of the ocean. Ethel was enraptured by Rose's heart wrenching story. Tears were even drawn from her eyes. "So…so now I think I may be…_pregnant_. I haven't had my cycle since before the _Titanic _and I've shown all the symptoms of what the girls my mother used to invite over for tea described and I don't know what to do—I just—I don't know what to do."

"Oh, sugar," Ethel said. She pulled Rose towards her and let her cry into her shoulder. After a few moments, she pulled Rose up to face her, handing the redhead her handkerchief to try her eyes with. "Listen to me, sweetie. This happens to so many girls, it's unfair. But you're not the only one in this kind of position." Ethel reached out to Rose and hooked a fallen piece of hair behind her ear. "My sister-in-law lives just up the river from here. She's a midwife. Her father also perished on the _Titanic_ and I know she'd love to help you with anything you need. I'll write to her this evening and let her know about your situation."

Rose stopped crying and a soft smile crossed her face. "Thank you, Ethel."

"It's not a problem, sugar." Ethel stood and helped Rose up behind her. "Now go home and get something to eat, all right?" She paused. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise you."

"Thank you." Rose gathered her things and headed home.

**So it's short, but it's the best I can do at the moment. **

**2/15/15**


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